


Relax, Don’t Do It. When You Want To Come.

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Blowjobs, Creams and Gels, Established Relationship, Graphic, Ice needs to chill out, M/M, Massages, Masturbation, Mav can barely keep up, Pool Sex, Public Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, This is pretty much 3k of foreplay and pure porn, Voyeurism, handjobs, spa weekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Maverick treats Iceman to a spa weekend, to relieve him of his tension.Only to find that Iceman is much more tense then either of them could imagine, with Maverick bouncing in his lap.





	Relax, Don’t Do It. When You Want To Come.

**Author's Note:**

> Officially the porniest porn I have ever written and, I’m proud of it. These two deserve it.
> 
> Title taken from Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s _Relax _as that is basically the point, here.__

“I can’t believe you talked me no into this, Maverick.”

Iceman had been back at Top Gun just under three months, and had been inside Maverick for the majority of the last six weeks. He was on edge and it came as no surprise to Maverick, it was a hell of a big change for Iceman. He was slowly learning the ropes of how things were done around here and he was adapting well to the Top Gun brass.

Iceman was the absolute perfect employee, when he was able to relax a little and not bitch about Maverick’s unique flying style. His snide comments were both hilarious and a little insulting and sure, Maverick wanted to be snapping at his heels but, there ‘relationship’ was progressing much faster than the two of them could handle. Maverick needed Iceman to relax, for both of their sakes.

“I’m as shocked as you are, Kazansky.”

Maverick had pulled at his purse strings, coughed up the cash for some all inclusive Spa weekend at this fancy hotel on the outskirts of town. Far enough from all the planes, colleagues, any rumour and suspicion that hopefully, Iceman could loosen up. Let his perfectly gelled frosted tips down a little. There was no harm in a little relaxation, right?

He could tell Iceman was nervous and he’d called him out on it multiple times before today. Iceman wasn’t too keen on having some random woman delve deep into his crevices, smearing him with liquids for a solid ninety minutes or so. Maverick knew it, but he didn’t tease him for that, not today. Today was about Iceman, opening up and unwinding. The extra tension wasn’t needed at this early hour.

The two of them took a seat in the waiting area. Iceman’s nose wrinkled as the strong scent of chlorine and some floral bath salts washed over them both. A blonde woman, with a straight and sleek ponytail and a voice that dropped so irritatingly in silk, called them both in.

She left them to strip and wrap themselves in the hotel- issue dressing gowns and slippers. The fresh smell of cotton was a nice change. Maverick embraced the feeling the calming material had against his skin. He turned to Iceman, as he was tying his gown. Maverick’s eyes roamed over the slither of honey- gold tanned chest and the dark hairs that dusted it. Iceman’s dog tags were still visible, the silver glinted when he moved, catching the light.

“See anything you like, speak up.” Iceman grinned, large and full of teeth.

Maverick scoffed, raised two fingers to his face. He ignored Iceman’s smirk.

* * *

The day progressed slow and tranquil. Maverick had them booked for a couples massage and pretended he didn’t see the spa manager’s raised eyebrow when he agreed to sharing a room. He also completely ignored Iceman’s protest by holding up a hand to his face, desperate not to cause a scene and ruin his day but, thankfully, Iceman just shot him a challenging look.

Maverick called ahead any requested a masseur for Iceman knowing that Iceman could thank him later and it would be worth all the aggravation of getting him here.

The masseur was hot though, Maverick had to admit. On an objectionable level. Rippling pecs that fought to stay confined by the thin fabric of his polo shirt. A smile that dazzled, complimenting his flowing brown hair. He was tall and muscular, with green eyes that held such intensity.

The two of them stripped down, laying out across the table. Iceman tugged the pristine white sheet higher up his legs but Maverick could still see how the thin fabric clutched to his body. The sheet framed Iceman’s muscular legs and the beautiful curve of his ass was highlighted. Iceman wasn’t looking at him, he rested his head on his forearms, turning away from Maverick to focus on the cool blue wall.

* * *

They were both into a deep tissue massage. Maverick’s masseuse, Sandra, worked wonders relieving him of the tension in his shoulders from being constantly hunched over his desk, the strain in his spine from being strapped up in the F-5 for countless hours. He moaned, low.

Iceman on the other hand was slower to relax and unwind. His hot masseur, Alexander, was all over him. Hand’s slick with some cream that reminded Maverick of pine, or maybe just winter. He had heard Iceman make a few pained noises, the odd passing grunt, but he’d quietened down. Maverick hoped he was loosening up.

Sandra’s hands moved lower and Maverick shifted. He sighed audibly, it was becoming harder for him to keep quiet. He did his best, biting his lip as her hands clutched at his calf. He focused on the tinkly piano music that filled the room and the sounds of Iceman. Iceman who, was humming his appreciation. Maverick breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

The massage became deeper, more rough. Maverick was relieved of his tension and was willingly letting sighs drop from his lips. Iceman had actually spoken to him a little throughout citing that ‘he didn’t want to feel asleep in fear of what Maverick would do to him’ and Maverick just chuckled.

He flipped Iceman off when he knew no one else could see. Iceman’s tongue trailed his lower lip in silent retaliation.

“ _Fuck_.” Iceman groaned, as sweetly torturous hands rubbed at his sides, a shiver sent up his spine.

He was panting a little, Maverick clung to the sounds to be sure he didn’t doze off himself. He hoped Iceman wasn’t in pain.

“Ice.. hey Ice.” Maverick looked up, he laughed at the quizzical glances Sandra and Alexander shared with each other and continued. “Call sign. You doin’ alright over there.”

“Shut up, Maverick.”

Maverick shut up.

They were coming towards the end and Iceman moaned. The sound was raw, as though it was wretched from deep within his throat. Maverick twitched. The only time he’d ever heard that was when Iceman was buried deep within—

Maverick ground his head against the headrest, a futile attempt to clear his head.

Iceman moaned again, louder this time. It seemed to linger. Maverick couldn’t see where Alexander’s hands were on Iceman in that moment and inwardly cursed himself at the wasted opportunity. He’d have to figure out just where on the Iceman’s muscular frame provoked that delicious reaction. He needed that advantage.

* * *

Sandra and Alexander slipped out of the room. Maverick shakily sat up, muscles feeling like jelly in the moment. He laughed to himself, rubbing away a little clump of gel that coated his lower back. His eyes landed on Iceman, he hadn’t moved. He was just laying there breathing deeply.

“Ice, hey Ice. We have to get going, you’re not asleep are you?”

“…In a moment.” Iceman’s voice was strained.

Maverick almost fell off of the table, it was higher up than he’d anticipated, and walked over to Iceman’s sleepy face.

“C’mon Tom. They’ll need the room.”

At that moment Iceman shifted his weight, rolling over so that he was on his back. Maverick’s eyes traced his form, landed on the tent in the sheet. His eyes landed back on Iceman’s. There he saw it: the flush in his face, his dilated pupils. Desperation writ across his face. His lips were parted, he took a calming breath.

Iceman didn’t say anything. He watched with interest as Maverick strutted to the door, locked it, and turned back to Iceman. Iceman slowly rose up to rest on his forearms, only to be met by Maverick’s hand on his slick chest. He took the hint, laying himself back across the table.

Iceman gasped, Maverick revelled in the sound. The restrictions of the thin white sheet was peeled away. There were bottles of creams, lotions and gels on the table behind Maverick, he spurted some thick, citrus smelling gel onto his fingers. He ran a hand up Iceman’s thigh, who let out a sigh. His chest shook with it.

Maverick’s finger inched upward, he traced circles around Iceman’s hips. Iceman shifted, he thrusted his pelvis forward, coaxing Maverick closer.

“Don’t tease.”

Maverick chuckled too himself.

“Oh Iceman, fraying at the edges.”

His slicked fingers caught hold of Iceman, wrapping around the base of his cock. Maverick smiled as he felt it twitch in his grasp. He looked to Iceman, head tipped back, as a moan slipped from his gorgeous lips. Maverick began to move, up and down, in slow and teasing strokes. Iceman’s hips followed his movements, he thrusted lightly upwards, hips leaving the security of the table behind for the danger up ahead.

“Fuck Mav, _fuck_.” It was almost a whisper.

Maverick picked up his pace. A smile painted its way across his face as Iceman writhed and shook within his grasp, he tugged harder in response. The way Iceman was moaning ‘fuck’ and ‘Jesus Christ’ in a breathless tone was more than enough to set Maverick off. He palmed himself and let out a groan.

At that moment, Iceman’s head snapped upwards. He rose, so his weight was on his forearms, meeting Maverick’s lust-full gaze. Maverick’s rhythm never faltered. Iceman’s hips buckled upwards.

“Shit, Mav. Stop. _Stop_.”

“No Ice, it’s okay. I don’t—“

“—Yes you do. Come here. Climb up.”

Maverick straddled him, with surprising grace. His cock stood at attention just inches from Iceman’s face.

“Scoot closer.”

Maverick moaned, low. Iceman’s lips enveloped his shaft. He sucked hard, pulled back to take a breath and took Maverick in all the way. Iceman’s tongue swirled in random patterns, coaxing Maverick further, forcing Maverick’s will to cave in. Iceman couldn’t move too much so Maverick tried his absolute best to refrain from fucking his mouth without restraint.

Maverick startled. His eyes widened. He shifted and realised Iceman’s cock was leaking, he felt a wet patch on his ass. Maverick felt him moan around him and he shivered. He wiggled his ass backwards, as far back as he could get, without Iceman’s mouth slipping from him. He cocked his pelvis back and starting grinding on Iceman. He got a little thrill every time he felt Iceman’s cock pulsate beneath him.

He was close. He didn’t want this sensation to stop now, to stop ever. But he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Ice, hang on.” Maverick retreated and Iceman wiped his mouth.

“Let me up.”

Maverick ground his hips against Iceman a final time, his cock brushed up against the cleft of his ass. Maverick smiled. He got to his feet, as Iceman got to his knees. Settling back on the table opposite him, Maverick’s hand closed on his cock and he jacked himself off. Iceman whispered his encouragement as Maverick bought himself closer and closer, his eyes slipped closed.

“That’s it, that’s it Mav.”

He heard Iceman groan and his eyes found Iceman’s again. Iceman’s hands were planted firmly at his sides. All his attention was on Maverick and the desperate thrusts of his hips.

“Come for me, come for me _baby_.”

A couple more strokes and Maverick was coming, Iceman steadied him as he bit into his own wrist, to stifle his moans. His come coated his hand and the small space between them.

Iceman let go off Maverick’s trembling form and with two nimble fingers, he swabbed at the wet patch and his fingers circled his cock. He mixed Maverick’s come with his own and jacked furiously at himself. Maverick was still panting, he’d barely regained his composure when Iceman’s free hand clutched at his jaw. Maverick took the hint. He fell forward, let Iceman kiss him deep and dirty. He tasted himself in Iceman’s mouth for a split second. Iceman froze. He broke away with a shudder, he resembled his movements. His slick hand tugged at his cock as he drained himself of his orgasm. He moaned his way through.

Maverick had never heard him moan like that before.

“Fucking _hell_ , Mav.” Iceman panted, a smile on his face, beaming with his post orgasmatic glow.

They both laughed, as Maverick swiped the sheets over himself. Iceman’s pants began to lessen, he reached for the tissues on the nearby stand and began cleaning himself up.

Iceman kissed him again, this time no tongues. Just a brush of lips, a hand in Maverick’s damp hair.

“Erm, Mr Mitchell. Are you and Mr Kazansky.. _finished_.. in there?” Sandra laughed her way through her words.

The two men looked at each other, panic evident on both faces. Maverick broke away first, with a huge grin.

“Holy shit, Iceman.”

They both apologised profusely.

* * *

The pool was deserted. Maverick figured pretty much the entire hotel was deserted. He hovered by the pool side, watching Iceman. Iceman swam laps, up and down, up and down. The water glistened off of him, falling in tiny rivulets. He was so goddamn graceful, Maverick couldn’t tear his eyes from his lean form. Iceman disappeared under the water every now and then, Maverick panicked, but steadied himself every time dark, slicked back blonde hair breeched the surface.

Maverick sat down, winced at the coolness of the water, and kicked his feet about. Iceman swam up to him, a challenging grin on his face and, without hesitation, grabbed Maverick by the ankle and yanked him into the pool. He yelped. Iceman laughed.

“The hell, man.”

Iceman backed away, as Maverick bobbed, his hand clutched to the poolside.

“You want me Mitchell, come get me.”

“ _Bastard_.”

Maverick paddled after him. Iceman just treaded water in the midst of the pool, face riddled with cockiness. When Maverick finally got to him, Iceman’s arms wrapped around his waist and he kissed him, deep, tongue in his mouth. Iceman kept them both above the water and Maverick moaned his appreciation.

“ _Fuck me_.” Iceman mumbled as he broke away, Maverick clutched to his shoulders. “Fuck me, Mav.” He insisted.

“Right here?”

“No, Mars. Yes right here you stupid son of a—.”

“—How do I even… _stay up_ too… _enter_ … _you_.”

Iceman could’ve smacked him.

“Guess I’ve dealt with worse from you, this hard.” He muttered to himself, he smiled back to Maverick and pushed him away. “Thought you wanted me to _relax_?” Iceman smirked.

Maverick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you want too top? Hold me down? Fuck me over the edge of the pool? Finger me open, fuck me good?” Maverick could hear his smirk.

“Fine.” Maverick acted as though he didn’t want it, he knew Iceman could see straight through him.

They paddled to the stairs, Maverick behind Iceman who clung to the bars as Maverick removes his trunks. He fingered at his own and his lips settled on Iceman’s neck. He was rewarded with a delicious groan, Iceman’s grip tightened on the bars.

Maverick’s lips trailed lower, one hand brushed over Iceman’s back. He shivered, twisted, so Maverick rubbed him harder. With a circle pattern that coated his lower back, Iceman arched beautifully. He moaned again, it sent a shiver up Maverick’s spine, and a jolt straight to his cock.

He took hold of Iceman’s erection and stroked him slow. Iceman thrusted against him, hips rolling in time with Maverick. He was painfully hard, Maverick could tell. He couldn’t last a long time, he needed Maverick to fuck him hard right then and there.

“Mav I- just- _fuck_ I- I _need_ it.” Iceman groaned again, from low within his throat.

“ _Please_ ” He whispered. Maverick nearly came at that.

A crooked finger slipped down to Iceman’s ass, separated his cheeks and found his asshole. Maverick filled and stretched him, added another finger and Iceman keened. His sighs graduated to throaty moans with each twist of Maverick’s wrist, as he fucked Maverick’s whole hand.

“Ice, shit. Your _so tight_. This was meant to loosen you up, how are you—“

A chocked off moan cut Maverick off. The sound was delicious, dripping in impatience.

“For the love of- Mitchell, you’re _killing_ _me_ here.”

Maverick laughed and he withdrew his fingers. Iceman’s whine sent another jolt through him, he grabbed his own cock in retaliation, squeezed hard at the base.

“No I wouldn’t do that. You’re too good to me.” Maverick couldn’t see but he was sure Iceman rolled his eyes.

“Ice, breathe. Just _breathe_.”

Iceman braced himself, knuckles white as he clung to the steps before him. He gasped as the blunt of Maverick’s cock prodded at him, more forceful than what he’d intended. Iceman, without a thought, pushed his hips backwards to meet him, and Maverick was pleasantly slick inside him.

Maverick went hard, hard and fast. They both needed this and from the way Iceman quickly favoured full throaty moans instead of his quiet ‘uh’ routine, he was close. Iceman tipped his body forward, the perfect angle. Maverick nailed his prostate and he yelped. Maverick quickened his pace, fingers bound tight to Iceman’s cut hips that there would surely be bruises in the morning. Iceman had a clumsy hand on himself, he jerked himself off to the perfect rhythm of Maverick’s bucking hips. He felt Iceman tense, he felt his inner walls contract all around him and Iceman was coming, with moans wild and untamed. He sounded like a pornstar. By Maverick’s definition, Kazansky was a pornstar. To him at the very least.

The pressure was too much for Maverick, he couldn’t stand the heat. Maverick clung to Iceman’s heaving chest, pulled him up so he was flush against Maverick’s chest and Maverick came, hard, deep within Iceman.

Only the sounds of desperate pants filled the room. Maverick withdrew with a grunt and Iceman just looked at him. That look, Maverick knew, meant that Iceman felt so empty and so alone. Maverick kissed him, slow and full of meaning. He felt Iceman relax into the kiss and prod at his lips with his tongue.

* * *

“Although it pains me dearly, I have to..have to _thank_ you.”

Iceman pulled on his polo shirt and watched Maverick clamber into his jeans. Maverick stumbled.

“You what?”

Iceman sighed. Maverick’s grin was infuriating. Iceman loved it.

He strutted over to Maverick, without his trousers and Maverick without a shirt. His huge hands fanned about Maverick’s waist.

“For helping me _relax_ , asshole.” Iceman’s voice dropped an octave, rich in silk. “The Massage, _your_ Massage… the pool.”

“Ah, I see. So I _am_ good for something then?”

“Don’t push it, Mitchell.”

“Shove it up your ass, Kazansky.”

“Already did.” Iceman winked. “I’d like too again, when we get home.”

Maverick beamed. He caught Iceman’s mouth with his own and crushed their bodies together. Hands in his hair, Maverick felt so safe and secure. All of Iceman’s tension had melted away.

“How did I ever fall in love with you, Mitchell?”

“It’s _dangerous_ , and you like that.”

“Yeah.” Iceman grinned.

Iceman’s cock was coming to attention, pressed up against his thigh.

“Christ Ice, how do you always get so hard so fast?”

“It’s _dangerous_ , and I _like_ it.”

Their eyes locked. Iceman’s lips parted. They breathed in tandem for a few moments.

“How long till checkout?” Maverick asked.

“Thirty-three minutes.” Iceman checked his watch.

Iceman sat down on the bed, one long dextrous finger crooked into a ‘come hither’ motion.

The next thing Maverick knew was that Iceman had taken them on a roll on the bed, flung his jeans to the floor. He chucked his shirt to the side and roughly ground his hips against Maverick.

“Thirty- three minutes Mav- _erick_ ” Iceman punctuated his words with a light touch to Maverick’s chest.

“Bring it.”


End file.
